Page 190 of Tell Me I'm Enough

I drop my head, pressing my nails hard into my palm like I deserve the pain. I need it to distract me.

My dad’s voice snaps me back.“You want to explain to me why you were drinking in the middle of the day?”

“I wasn’t drunk,” I say, my voice cracking despite myself. “I didn’t crash because I was drunk.”

“You were over the limit, Mason.”

“I got distracted,” I insist. “Tank was talking, and I looked away for one second—”

“One second is all it took,”he cuts in.“And now I’m cleaning up another one of your messes.”

“I didn’t ask you to,” I snap.

“You don’t get a choice,”he fires back.“You represent me. You represent this family. You’re not throwing away your future and my legacy because you can’t seem to get your crap together.”

I laugh weakly. “That’s all you care about? Your name? I don’t think you’ve askedoncehow I was doing or if I was okay.”

“What I care about,”he says coldly, “is not wasting time on someone who doesn’t even care enough about himself to make smart decisions.”

My leg bounces under the sheet, the anger coursing through me, needing somewhere to go. I crack my neck, trying to ease the tension. “Well, that’s great. Is there anything else?”

Silence.

Then he finally speaks again.“Get your act together, Mason.”Then the line goes dead.

I let out a breath, throwing my phone down in front of me.

Simone walks closer, stopping beside my bed. “The officers said I only have ten minutes to talk to you, then I have to leave, and you can’t have any visitors.”

“I’m sorry,” I say immediately, pressing the palms of my hands to my eyes. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

She cuts me off. “Why were you drinking during the day in the first place?”

I look at her, and I hate seeing the disappointment in her eyes. Hate it more than my dad’s anger. Hate it more than the pain in my head.

“You don’t make dumb decisions like this,” she continues quietly. “What’s going on with you?”

“I thought I was okay to drive,” I say. “I knew I was fine. I just—” My voice breaks. “I was stupid.” Tears burn, and I wipe at my eyes angrily. “This is all my fault. Tank is hurt because ofme.” She reaches for me, but I shake my head. “They won’t even tell me anything. There was so much blood, Simone. So much. He’s in surgery right now because I didn’t stop at a damn stop sign, because I was too fucking distracted.” My chest hurts so badly as I try to keep it together enough to talk. “He’s fighting for his life because I couldn’t keep my damn eyes on the road.”

Simone grabs my face firmly, forcing me to look at her. “You can’t change what happened,” she says, almost tenderly. “But right now he needs for you to stay positive. He’sgoingto make it, and then he’s going to need you after he does.”

I shake my head. “You didn’t hear how panicked they were when they brought him in.”

She leans down and presses her forehead to mine. The tears start to fall—anger, fear, and guilt all strangling me at the same time.

“Hey. He’s gonna be okay. It’s Tank.” She laughs weakly. “He’s gonna make it, and in a couple of weeks, he’s gonna be milking this whole thing with every girl on campus.”

A shaky laugh slips out of me before I can stop it.

“Yeah,” I sniff. “That sounds like him.”

I place my hand on the side of her face while her head is still pressed against mine. “Thank you for coming.”

“As soon as Tanner texted me, I was already in my car, speeding to get here.”

She steps back, one of her hands still holding on to mine.

“You actually care about me?” I tease.